


Come Alive

by TwilightHayley



Series: NovaHD [AU One-Shots] [11]
Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Inspired by The Greatest Showman (2017), M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective James
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightHayley/pseuds/TwilightHayley
Summary: The newest addition to the circus is a hot, arrogant, knife-throwing Russian trapeze artist, and James is so fucked.Or…the feel-good circus AU that nobody asked for. Inspired by The Greatest Showman.
Relationships: Aleksandr Vitalyevich Marchant/James Richard Wilson
Series: NovaHD [AU One-Shots] [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/356453
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Come Alive

**~I~**

_You stumble through your days_

_Got your head hung low_

_Your skies are a shade of grey._

Days before beginning a grand tour of America, the circus loses half of its acts.

James scoffs when he hears Jordan’s announcement of resignation, glad to be rid of the man, only to be left horrified when half of his family proclaim their departure too. They’re leaving to join The Creatures, a circus renowned for its use of animals, and one of the most notorious troupes in the world.

James is furious by their betrayal, enraged by the callous way they broke the news, and is all set to burn their belongings and beat the shit out of them until he is stopped by Brett, the owner and manager of the circus.

Brett lets them leave with a smile and warm wishes for their future, leaving the glowering and cursing to James and the others.

James can’t help but be suspicious of Brett’s calm reaction, suspecting an ulterior motive, and his instincts are proven right when Brett immediately announces open auditions to hire new talent.

Still burned by the betrayal, James refuses to join him to trial the newbies, even though he knows it’s part of his responsibility. He sticks to improving and training the talent they already have, preferring to work through his anger by doing what he does best.

When the auditions are over, he waits for Brett in his tent, bracing himself to hear who would be joining them.

His boss walks in only minutes later, closely followed by a younger man; a man who walks with such poise and confidence that James instantly rises out of his seat to square up to him, on edge by his presence alone.

The man meets his gaze, lips rising into a smirk as he stares James down, both men taking the opportunity to size each other up.

The first thing James notices is his frame; muscular and lithe, and painted with a colourful array of tattoos. The tips of his hair are bleached blonde, his roots dark, and his russet eyes are alight with arrogance and a hint of humour. 

James dislikes him immediately.

Unaware of the tension in the room – or if he is, he is doing his best to ignore it – Brett chooses that moment to introduce them. “James, meet Aleksandr Marchant. This is the man who is going to save our circus.”

James doesn’t even blink. “What can he do?”

Aleksandr’s mouth flattens into a thin line, unimpressed that James has chosen not to address him - not that James gives a shit.

“He’s a trapeze artist, and an expert knife wielder. Two acts for the price of one. He’s from Russia.”

James doesn’t even need to look at Brett to see the money signs glowing in his eyes. The man in front of him is handsome and talented, and James knows deep down that he is what the circus needs. Not that he’ll admit it.

“Nice to meet you,” Aleksandr offers James his hand, his words sincere but the smile on his face anything _but_.

James stares down at the offering; at Aleksandr’s skin, calloused and rough from the use of ropes, and begrudgingly takes his hand. “You don’t sound Russian.” He says dismissively, fingers tightening around Aleksandr’s as they shake hands.

“Born in Russia, but I wasn’t raised there.” Aleksandr releases his hand, but their gazes don’t leave one another.

James doesn’t have time to hear his story; not that he cares anyway. He has more pressing issues on his mind. “Any more acts?” He directs his question towards Brett but doesn’t look away from Aleksandr.

“Some novelty acts, but no one as talented as Aleks here.”

Aleksandr – Aleks – practically preens at the praise, and James sees a flash of that arrogant smirk again.

He _really_ doesn’t like this guy.

“High praise,” He says dryly, taking one more opportunity to scrutinise Aleks before he leaves. “Brett had better be right about you. If not, we’re all screwed.”

He takes a moment to enjoy the flicker of surprise that flashes across Aleks’ face, a crack in his conceited composure, before storming out of the tent.

**~II~**

_‘Cause you’re just a dead man walking_

_Think of that your only option_

_But you can flip the switch and brighten up your darkest day._

To James’ reluctance, he has to admit that Brett was right: Aleks _is_ the man who is going to save their circus.

James may not like the guy, but he knows talent when he sees it.

Aleks is _extraordinary_. He’s delicate and agile on the tightrope and trapeze, but then ferocious and fierce with his knives, always hitting his targets with perfect accuracy and precision.

James watches him practise discretely, as he guides and instructs the other performers during rehearsal. It’s their first show tonight, and they’ve spent the last few weeks refining the show. They’re sold out nationwide, touring for at least the next two years, and James hopes he’s done enough to make their show the best it can be. 

He sits down on one of the benches to watch the unicyclists practise, occasionally stopping their act to give them advice on their pace and speed. They’re great, but James wants them to be _perfect_.

A few minutes later, he notices that he’s not alone in the stands. Aleks is sitting behind him, the smirk that James _hates_ curving the corners of his mouth. “Are you too important to rehearse with the rest of us?” He asks him dryly, propping his feet up on James’ bench. He’s wearing the thin leather shoes he walks the tightrope in, and James hates that he’s spent so much time watching Aleks that he knows that.

He hates a lot of things when it comes to Aleks. The two aren’t friends, only forced together through circumstance. They are part of the same family, but they don’t get along. They spend most of their time arguing and bickering, much to the amusement of everyone else, and there’s always tension between them. Sexual tension, their friend Trevor had quipped once, which had earned him hostile glares from both Aleks and James.

“What is your act, anyway?” Aleks continues, unfazed by James’ silence. “Other than overbearing know-it-all.”

James doesn’t rise to Aleks’ bait, not in the mood to fight with him. Not with their grand opening only hours away. “You’ll find out tonight,” He tells him, standing up from the bench. Aleks has been with them for a while now, but he still has no idea what James does. “Shouldn’t you be rehearsing?”

Aleks tilts his head, raising one of his arched eyebrows at him. “I didn’t know you cared. Unless you’re volunteering to be my assistant on the throwing wheel?”

Strapped to a wheel whilst knives are thrown at him. James can’t withhold his grimace, which just makes Aleks smirk again. “I’ll pass,” James says evenly, shooting a thumbs up to the unicyclists. He begins to head down the stairs to head into the circus ring, but he pauses on the final step when he hears Aleks call his name.

He turns to look back at him. Aleks is still sitting on the bench, but his smirk has faded. “Break a leg tonight,” He says, though James can’t tell if he is being sincere or not.

“You too,” He replies, nodding at him once, before walking into the ring.

~

The next time he sees Aleks is later that evening, just as the show is about to start. They bump into each other backstage, both dressed in their performance clothes.

They stare at one another for a few moments; James taking in Aleks’ white shirt and black waistcoat that he wears during his knife act, and Aleks running his eyes over James’ red velvet coat and top hat.

“You’re the ringmaster,” Aleks states quietly, twirling the false, bushy moustache he wears for his act between his fingers. He looks shocked, perhaps even a little awed.

James grins at him wickedly, glad to be the one to extinguish some of Aleks’ smugness. “Surprise.”

“Makes sense. Explains the bossiness,” Aleks’ smile is rueful, almost apologetic. “So, this is your show? Fuck, I really should have been nicer to you.”

James can’t help but laugh at his remark, which makes Aleks look even more surprised. “It’s Brett’s business, but I manage and direct the talent,” James tells him, brushing a stray piece of fluff from his coat.

“Well, you’re good at it,” Aleks clears his throat, his gaze darting away before settling back on James’ face. “From what I’ve seen, anyway.”

James smiles at him brightly, seeing the opening of a friendship. Maybe he’s misunderstood Aleks. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” It sounds like he’s boasting, but he’s not talking about himself, he’s speaking about them all. He knows they’ve created something special, together.

They hear the band start to play, and James hears his song. “That’s my cue.” He adjusts his top hat and takes his spot behind the curtain, noticing Aleks back away into the shadows.

When the curtain lifts, James walks out to cheers and applause, feeling himself come alive under the music, the lights, the praise. He was born to do this.

The show soars by, and James is just as captivated as the audience is, beaming with pride as he watches his family perform.

During the final bow, he finds himself looking for Aleks.

Only to see that Aleks is already staring at him from across the ring. He’s smiling, the skin around his eyes crinkling as applause rings out all around them, a genuine smile, full of wonder and admiration.

A smile that brightens when he sees James smiling back at him.

**~III~**

_Sun is up and the colour’s blinding_

_Take the world and redefine it_

_Leave behind your narrow mind_

_You’ll never be the same._

After thirty shows in California, they travel to Nevada for the next part of their grand tour. It takes a few days to get there and then more long hours to set up the circus for their shows the following week. Everyone retires to their trailers to sleep once most of the work is done.

Everyone except for James.

He likes to be in the circus arena when no one is around; revelling in the silence and the peace. It’s the only time he ever has on his own to indulge in a hobby that no one else knows about.

He busies himself with some organisation backstage, waiting for about an hour to give all his family enough time to fall asleep, before walking back into the ring.

And then he starts to sing.

He _loves_ to sing, even though he has never sung in front of anyone else. He could sing as part of his ringmaster act, but he knows he isn’t good enough to sing to thousands of people every week. He doesn’t know if he would survive the taunts and teases from his friends too. Singing is _very_ out of character for him.

So he nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears someone clapping as he finishes his fifth song.

Mortified, he raises his hand to shield his eyes and squints into the shadows, unable to see clearly with the circus lights beaming down on him.

Aleks emerges from the darkness, hopping over the railing to join him in the ring. Of course, it has to be _him_ that discovers James’ secret. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” James snaps at him. He and Aleks may be friends now, but he is horrified that he’s been caught. “You should be asleep.”

Aleks leans back against the railing, folding his tattooed arms across his chest. “I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk,” He tells him calmly, unbothered by James’ temper. “Then I heard a beautiful voice coming from the tent and thought I’d investigate. I’m glad I did.”

“Fuck off, I’m not in the mood,” James mutters, shooting him a dark glare. Aleks’ teasing is _exactly_ why he isn’t ready to take his singing public.

“Dude I’m not kidding. I didn’t know you could sing. James, you’re incredible.”

Under the brightness of the lights, it’s impossible to hide anything. James can see every line of Aleks’ handsome face, and he realises very quickly that Aleks’ compliments are genuine. There isn’t one trace of amusement or mockery in his expression; he's smiling at him softly, his mahogany eyes shining with sincerity, and James feels his cheeks flame. 

“No one knows,” He says quietly, looking away from the kindness in Aleks’ gaze. “Just…look, don’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Why not?” Aleks’ voice is even softer than James’. “Why don’t you want people to know?”

James wishes they were standing in the shadows for this conversation, because there’s nowhere for him to hide either. Aleks can see every part of him too. “It’s not something I’m ready to tell anyone about. It’s just a hobby.”

“A hobby that you should be exploiting for the circus.”

James considers walking across the ring and turning off the lights, knowing his face is probably glowing scarlet from Aleks’ unwavering, undivided attention. “I’m not that good,” He protests weakly, wondering just how long Aleks had been listening to him sing. 

“Trust me, you’re good,” Aleks’ assertive tone forces James to glance at him. “There are ringmasters that sing as part of their act. You should be one. You’re better than all of them.”

Maybe it’s the lights, maybe it’s the fact that they’re all alone without any of the distractions of the circus around them, but James feels his pulse begin to race. He can barely think of something to say back to him, overwhelmed by the way Aleks is _still_ looking at him. “I…I don’t know about that,” He says after a few moments, sounding a lot calmer than he feels. “I think I’m good for now. Not doing the singing, I mean.”

“If you say so,” Aleks awards him with one more smile before he vaults back over the railing, likely sensing that James wants to be alone. “I mean it, you know,” He adds, leaning back over the metal fence. “You’re talented. You should think about it.”

James doesn’t even get the chance to form a response. Aleks flashes him a smirk, a smug smile that used to rile James up, but now it makes him feel something. He just doesn’t know what that _something_ is. “Don’t let what I’ve said go to your head. It’s big enough already.”

Aleks’ joke extinguishes whatever spark had been simmering between them.

James watches him disappear into the night, stunned into silence.

**~IV~**

_Come alive, come alive_

_Go and light your light_

_Let it burn so bright._

After their last show in Nevada, they go out for drinks to celebrate. Brett declines James’ offer, but Aleks and a few others tag along with him to a local bar.

They drink a lot, laugh a lot more than that, and James forgets that they have a long journey ahead of them. He can’t think of anything at all, only able to focus on the warmth seeping through him as Aleks leans into him, nudging their shoulders together. They’re pressed up together in one of the booths, and James tells himself it’s the alcohol warming his blood.

But he knows it’s a lie. He’s _burning_ from Aleks’ close proximity.

James brings their night to a close before he can do something stupid, like hold his hand or _worse_. After finishing his drink, he gathers up his friends and they head outside.

They decide to cut through a dark alleyway to get back to the circus site, but James comes to a halt halfway through it, seeing a group of men blocking their exit at the other end.

He’s on edge immediately, recognising the danger they’re all in. He brings his hand up silently, hearing his friends fall silent and come to a stop behind him.

Pure, protective instinct fuels James forward, and he takes a couple of steps towards them.

Aleks is the only one who follows him, and he stands steadfast by his side. He looks as tense as James feels, also aware of the trouble they’re in.

One of the men moves forward too, and he stops a few inches in front of James. “Move out of the way fellas,” He says warningly, his eyes darting between him and Aleks. “We have no problem with you. Just some of the freaks behind you.”

Embers of anger begin to ignite in James’ chest, fiercely protective of the people he calls his family. He goes to take another step forward but stops when he sees Aleks moving his arm slowly, reaching behind his back for the knife that James knows he keeps tucked away in a sheath.

Quickly James grabs Aleks’ wrist, ceasing his movement. He knows this will end violently, but he doesn’t want things to turn _deadly_. He isn’t losing any of his family tonight.

He can feel Aleks’ pulse quickening under his fingertips, his adrenaline kicking in as danger looms closer. His touch seems to soothe Aleks, who is now standing completely still, and James squeezes his wrist reassuringly, steady and calming.

The man in front of them laughs darkly, his white teeth glistening in the moonlight. “Oh, I get it. You two are fags. You fit right in with the rest of the freaks. Maybe we should see if blondie’s ass is—”

He is abruptly cut off by James’ fist. He strikes him right across the face, knocking him to the ground in one hit.

No one, _no one_ , talks about Aleks like that.

The rest of the men leap into action, and suddenly James is surrounded. He doesn’t care; all he sees is _red_ , his vision tinting with scarlet. The embers of fury are now a blistering inferno, and he manages to deflect some of the blows, delivering some powerful ones of his own.

Soon the only figures still standing are his family. The rest of the men have either scarpered or are lying unconscious on the ground. Fortunately none seem to be laying in pools of blood; Aleks must have kept his knife out of the fight.

Fury is still pulsing out of James in thick, uncontrollable waves, but gradually he comes to, achingly aware of the pain in his ribs, his cracked knuckles, and the throbbing around his right eye.

Then he’s being hauled back down the alleyway by Aleks. He looks pale and worried, but unhurt, much to James’ relief. He feels himself sag in Aleks’ arms, more hurt than he realised, and he lets the Russian pull him back towards the bar. Distantly he’s aware of their friends following them, but all he can focus on is Aleks’ quiet, comforting murmurs and the anxious frown darkening his complexion.

The barman seems to have heard the commotion, and he’s there to welcome them back with free drinks. He praises them for teaching those men a lesson and tells them that the gang has harassed customers of his in the past, as James is dragged across the room by Aleks.

Aleks pushes him down on the bench they’d been sitting on together earlier that evening, nudging him until James finally gets the hint and slides down, allowing him to sit beside him.

The bartender places some ice, some cloths and a whole bottle of whiskey down on their table, before leaving them to it.

James reaches for the bottle of whiskey, needing alcohol to buffer some of the pain he’s in. He drinks some, watching Aleks wrap some of the ice in one of the cloths to make a makeshift cold compress. He raises it to James’ eye, pressing down on his skin gently.

The ice feels good against his bruises, but James still winces. The whiskey is burning his split lip too so he puts it down, and catches a glimpse of his cracked, split knuckles.

“Quite a shiner you’ll have in the morning,” He hears Aleks say lightly, but his tone is false, his frown giving him away. He still looks worried.

“Worth it,” James responds, because it was. He’ll hurt in the morning, and he’ll bitch about it to anyone who will listen, but he won’t regret what he did. He’d do anything to protect his family. “Those fuckers deserved what they got.”

Aleks bites down on his lower lip, fixing his gaze on the compress rather than meeting James’ eyes. “Because of what they called us?” He asks evenly, but James sees right through his act again.

He knows Aleks isn’t talking about being called freaks, but the other slur. “That didn’t offend me,” James says immediately, wanting to reassure him but not altogether sure _why_. “It was what he said about you. There was no way in hell I was going to let him touch you.”

Aleks is still biting his lip, but colour begins to return to his skin, a pink hue staining his cheeks.

“Or the others,” James adds as an afterthought. He’d been protecting all of them.

He sees the corner of Aleks’ mouth lift into a semblance of a smile. “Well…thanks, dude. I appreciate it.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” James says, deflecting from the praise as he takes note of Aleks’ unmarked skin. “Look at you. There’s not even a scratch on you. You’re a better fighter than me.”

“I didn’t know it was a competition,” Aleks replies, easily sinking into the routine of their playful, teasing banter. It’s a nice change from the terrifying scenes they just experienced together. “But I’ll accept the compliment.”

James wants to fall back into normalcy too, but he doesn’t want to let this moment slip away. He needs to know how Aleks feels, _desperate_ to know what he made of the man’s comment about them. “Were you…did he offend you?”

“No,” Aleks doesn’t hesitate, sounding so certain that James doesn’t ask him if he’s sure. “Love is love. Right?”

Relieved, James takes the icy cloth from Aleks, keeping it pressed against his eye. “Right,” He says softly, watching as Aleks takes another damp cloth to begin cleaning the open wounds on his hand.

He sinks back against the booth and lets Aleks take care of him, continuing to observe him through half-lidded eyes. He feels the warmth from earlier returning to flood his senses, but he doesn’t deny what it means any longer.

He has feelings for Aleks. He isn’t sure if they’re feelings of want or lust, or if its love, but it’s _something_. Something meaningful, something significant.

Right now, with Aleks touching him with all the gentle tenderness of a lover, he can pretend that Aleks feels the same way about him. 

**~V~**

_No more living in those shadows_

_You and me, we know how that goes._

_‘Cause once you see it, you’ll never ever be the same._

One night after a show in Oregon, James and Aleks sneak into the circus ring when everyone else is asleep.

It’s finally time for James to try the tightrope. Aleks has been trying to convince him to walk on it for the last few weeks and James kept making excuses, using his injuries from the bar fight to hold him off. But now that his ribs have healed and his bruises have faded, he can’t put Aleks off any longer.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this Aleksandr,” James whispers, peering down at the drop from the platform. They’re not even up that high; Aleks has set up his training tightrope just for him, which is only a few metres above the ground. “I’m scared of heights man. I can’t do this.”

Aleks, the insolent _shit_ , just laughs and performs a pirouette on the tightrope. “Dude, it’s really not that high. This is the tightrope that I use when I teach kids how to stand on it.”

James scowls at him, unimpressed by the comparison. “Fuck you. I’m not a kid.”

Aleks stills and raises his arm in James’ direction. “Trust me,” He says earnestly. “Take my hand. I won’t let you go.”

Stupidly, James does. He takes the offering and grasps Aleks’ hand tightly, placing one foot on the tightrope.

As he goes to place his other foot, he wobbles – and then plummets over the edge. Aleks lets him fall.

James lands on the safety net, Aleks’ laughter echoing around the empty arena. “I hate you so much,” He yells, disgruntled. He rolls over onto his back, glancing up to look at Aleks, who is peering down at him from the tightrope.

“You’re the idiot who trusted me,” He calls back, and James can see the smirk lighting up his entire face. “Watch out below.”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_!” James hisses, knowing exactly what Aleks is going to do.

Aleks, as usual, ignores him. He somersaults off the tightrope and drops onto the net below, a few inches from where James is laying. The sudden weight bounces James up and down, and he sighs in exasperation.

“You fucker,” He says half-heartedly, no real anger in his voice. “You’re such a fucking show-off.”

Aleks rolls over to lay closer to him, his smirk softening. “You love it,” He says quietly.

_I love you_. James thinks, knowing he will follow Aleks anywhere and everywhere. Even to the platform of the highest tightrope. “I think I’m having a heart attack,” He responds, looking away from him to stare up at the tent ceiling. “I think you’ve killed me.”

Aleks lets the moment slip away too. He climbs off the net with more grace than James could ever hope to have, and grins at him. “Speaking of killing you…come with me.”

Once again, James is powerless to resist Aleks’ charm. He scrambles off the safety net and follows Aleks over to the throwing wheel, which is still set up from his knife act that he performed earlier.

Aleks’ mahogany eyes are glinting mischievously, and James knows what he wants to do to him. “No. No fucking way,” He mutters, eyeing Aleks’ array of knives warily. He’s witnessed Aleks throw knives at many different audience members but has never wished to be in their place. “Aleksandr, _no_.”

“Please,” Aleks, the fucker, is pouting at him. “James, please. I’ve always wanted a beautiful assistant.”

James nearly chokes, surprised by Aleks’ choice of words. “I’m sure I’m what you’ve always wanted,” He says dryly, knowing Aleks isn’t being serious.

But Aleks surprises him with a low chuckle and a soft smile, none of the arrogance and bravado that paints his smile usually.

Before James knows what is happening, he’s given Aleks his consent and his arms are being strapped down to the wheel. “Don’t spin me,” He says anxiously. “If you do, I’ll vomit, and you’ll be the one cleaning it up.”

Aleks nods, backing up a few paces. He picks up one of his throwing knives and holds it in the air, his gaze serious and contemplative.

His stare is too intense for James, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, I don’t think I can watch you do this.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

James opens one eye. “You told me to trust you on the tightrope and then you let me fall,” He reminds him.

“I won’t miss.” Aleks’ tone is still solemn, and James closes his eyes again. He knows Aleks won’t.

Silence.

James waits for the thud of the knife striking the wood he’s attached to, but he doesn’t hear anything.

More seconds pass by.

“Fuck, what is taking you so long?” James mutters, growing more agitated the longer he waits for Aleks. “My arms are starting to hurt.”

Suddenly, he feels Aleks’ lips brush against his.

It’s the softest touch, but it sets every nerve ending in James’ body alight.

He opens his eyes but Aleks has already danced away. He’s watching him from a distance with cautious eyes and a slight frown shadowing his face.

James feels his chest tighten and his breathing constrict, feels a tether forming between him and Aleks.

The silence is almost terrifying; every emotion bubbles in his heart: relief, happiness, tenderness, desire, and the whole spectrum caught in between.

“I’m sorry,” Aleks says hastily, misinterpreting James’s stare. “I shouldn’t have—"

“—Release me,” James says firmly, cutting him off. He needs his arms free for what he’s about to do. For what he _needs_ to do.

Aleks pads forward, the hypnotic, magnetic pull between them bringing him closer, and he frees James from his restraints.

In one swift movement, James spins Aleks around and shoves him up against the wood. He hears Aleks’ breath catch – and something within James _snaps_. He crosses the scant distance between them and presses his lips firmly, desperately, to his.

Fireworks erupt between them.

A long-dormant hunger, a need he hasn’t realised was building within him, explodes the moment their lips touch. Aleks is soft, his lips warm and pliant beneath his, returning James’ urgency with a fierce, fervent need of his own.

A small whimper escapes Aleks’ lips as their kiss deepens, and James tightens his grip possessively around his waist, pinning him harder against the wood.

Aleks pulls away first, and his head hits the wood with a dull thud, breathing harshly. “James, I –” But he never finishes, tangling his fingers into James’ long hair and tugging him forward to bring their mouths together again.

The sting is perfect, Aleks seems to know exactly how to touch him as his other hand travels under the cotton shirt he’s wearing, and James bites down on his lip, hearing Aleks elicit a small, desperate moan. He wants to learn everything Aleks like too, wants to touch him _everywhere_.

The tender skin of Aleks’ neck is right there, inches away from James’ lips. He can’t help himself from sucking a bruise into his skin, feeling Aleks shudder when he bites down, so he keeps going.

“James,” He hears Aleks whisper, his voice ragged. “Fuck, James.”

“That’s the plan baby,” James murmurs and hears Aleks laugh; gorgeous, amused and turned on – just what James wants. To make Aleks happy, and to make him feel good.

But not here, where anyone could see them. As much as he wants to fuck Aleks against the throwing wheel, any of their friends could walk in on them. Aleks deserves more for their first time. He deserves everything.

He yanks himself away from Aleks, and now he’s the one who offers him his hand. He doesn’t say anything, the invitation obvious.

Aleks takes his hand without any hesitation, as if he feels as strongly as James does. Like he would also follow James anywhere and everywhere.

And James knows, as they leave the circus tent hand in hand, their shoulders shaking with laughter as they run to avoid being seen, that it’s not lust or want that carries them to James’ trailer and into his bed, but _love_. 

**~VI~**

_And the world becomes a fantasy_

_And we’re more than we could ever be_

_‘Cause we’re dreaming with our eyes wide open._

“Can you really believe this is our 100th show?” James hears Brett mutter as they wait backstage with the rest of their family for their evening show to begin.

James is saved from answering by Aleks coming up behind him, his arm automatically finding his waist. “Fuck, have I really put up with you all for nearly a year of my life?” He remarks, softening the sting of his words by pressing a kiss to James’ neck, just above the collar of his red velvet coat. “Maybe I should retire.”

“You’ve loved every minute of it,” Trevor scoffs, adjusting the clown nose he wears for his juggling act. “Especially every minute you’ve spent sucking—”

James cuts him off by slapping the back of his head. “Shut the fuck up Trevor,” He says lightly, saving their friends from hearing about his and Aleks’ very active, very satisfying, sex life. “You need to focus. We all do. Is everyone ready?”

He is met with many nods of assurance and a couple of thumbs up, and Aleks murmurs a very fond “duh” in his ear. Tonight is the first time they’re beginning their show with a choreographed song and dance number, a special occasion for their 100th show, and James is doing most of the singing. Solo.

Aleks had finally convinced him to share his talents, and after berating him for keeping his singing talent a secret for so long, Brett came up with the idea for the showstopping opener. 

They’ve rehearsed it so many times, but James is nervous. He’s never been nervous in the ring before. He inhales shakily, wants to run his hand through his hair but doesn’t want to ruin the style Anna has done for him.

The opener is a gamble, a _massive_ one, but James takes one look at his family all around him, at his lover, and feels safe.

He can do this. _They_ can do this.

The band begins to play random chords of music to give the audience a chance to settle and to give the circus performers a chance to get into their starting positions, but Aleks tugs him back as James prepares to step away into the centre spotlight. He kisses him sweetly, lovingly, and James sinks into his embrace, flipping off some of their friends who pretend to gag in the background. He knows they’re happy for them really.

Aleks pulls away and reaches up to cradle his face with his palm, smoothing his thumb lovingly over his skin. “You’ve got this baby,” He whispers. “I love you.”

It’s not the first time James has heard those three words, but they still have the same effect on him that they did when Aleks told him he was in love with him all those months ago, both soaked to the bone after helping to dismantle the circus tent in the pouring rain. James had been in a foul mood, snapping at anyone who came near him, and Aleks had come right out and said it, like he knew it was the only thing he could say to bring James out of the darkness.

It lights James up now, and he presses a kiss to the tip of Aleks’ nose. “I love you too.”

Then Aleks is sprinting away, his footsteps light and soundless as he crosses the ring to ascend the ladder that takes him up to his trapeze. He has an important role in the opening number too.

James takes a deep breath, and steps into his spotlight.

They do the opening act, and it’s _exhilarating_. They get a standing ovation before the show has even truly begun, and James looks around in awe at all the people cheering and standing on their feet, for _him_.

He hopes he’ll have this forever.

As Aleks takes his hand and stands beside him, the rest of the troupe also linking hands so they can all take a bow together, James hopes they’ll be forever too.

He takes in all the admiration, all the applause, but nothing, _nothing_ , is as bright and as meaningful as Aleks’ proud, loving smile. He is _shining_ , and it’s all for James.

James doesn’t have to hope anymore, not with the way Aleks is looking at him.

He _knows_ they’re forever.

_We’re dreaming with our eyes wide open_

_So come alive._

_Come alive._


End file.
